Touched By A Human
by LexInADress
Summary: Series of ficlets for the 30 Day OTP Challenge - Now that Cas is human, he can have normal adventures with the Winchesters. And one of those human adventures is exploring the idea of romance with the Winchester who knows it best. As for Dean, that Castiel-shaped handprint on his shoulder matches the one on his heart. Is he willing to take the risk with his fallen angel?
1. Chapter 1

**Just for all you Destiel fans, I thought I'd try my hand at the 30 Day OTP Challenge as a writing warm-up for my main fic, American Hunters in Cardiff. I personally ship Destiel as well, but this marks my first attempt at writing any sort of couple fic. The entries will probably come in short little ficlets, but no worries, because there will be 30 of them. Thanks for reading!**

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**Day 1: Holding Hands**

In all the time he'd known Cas, Dean never imagined holding his hand. Though if he had, it would have been easy to predict that these would be the circumstances, given his occupation. It was just something that had never occurred to Dean. With so many girls in his wake and demons on his tail, it wasn't as if his sexuality even came up much in thought. He had bigger problems. For example, the witch trying to take out the Winchesters and their angel.

The witch bitch had cropped up after a young girl decided to take interest in the occult. There seemed to be no reasoning for the sudden interest, and it wouldn't have been a problem if she had kept her whack-a-doo behavior to herself. But then some strange deaths happened around town, and the girl was ground zero. That meant it was the Winchesters' business to take the girl out. Her name was Cathy.

The boys and Cas rolled into town in the Impala. It didn't take long to pinpoint where Cathy lived and where she liked to practice her freaky magic. It was an old abandoned warehouse on the edge of the town. Oh, and by the way, she happened to be from Kansas. To Dean, that was just adding insult to injury. He hated witches with a passion.

Sam and Dean kicked in the door of the warehouse one Friday night, Castiel in tow just steps behind them. Their guns were at the ready and Ruby's knife was concealed in Sam's belt loop, just in case a demon decided to make an appearance and steal the show. The boys pounded up the stairs and ran in on Cathy kneeling at a scrap of fabric on the ground, candles lit all around her. Well, as it turned out, they caught the girl by surprise.

Cathy leapt to her feet, gasping at the sudden appearance. "Get away from me!" she screamed, scrambling backwards in an attempt at escape. She would have made it out, too, if she hadn't knocked over her candle set.

The boys didn't even get a word in before the warehouse went up in flames. The summer had been unusually dry in Kansas, and the wood was just itching to burn. The fire spread quicker than Dean or Sam had ever seen, and that included their own house fire when Dean was four and Sam was six months old.

Portions of the building collapsed around them, bringing Dean's thoughts back to real time. They were on the second floor, and they were going to fall to the first floor soon if they didn't get down the remnants of the wooden stairs.

"Come on!" Sam yelled over the flames, taking off for the stairs.

Dean started after his brother, his eyes watering from the heat and ash. He could barely see where he was going, but stopped in his tracks when he heard, "Dean!" being cried.

Dean turned to see Cas, the piece of floor he had been standing on gone. He was dangling off what was left of the second floor, reaching out a hand for Dean to pull him up. "Dean!" he called again desperately.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean growled and ran to the edge of the floor. Castiel looked absolutely helpless just dangling there. He looked so weak, so totally and utterly human that it would have damn near broke Dean's heart if they hadn't been in a burning building with a witch. He shifted his gun from his right hand to his left. "Grab my hand!" he shouted to Cas as he extended his right hand into the void.

Cas grappled for a few second before latching on to Dean's fingers and holding tight. Dean heaved with all his might to put Cas back on solid ground, but when he looked into his friend's eyes, he almost lost his grip. In Cas' eyes, he saw...fear.

"Dean!" Cas called out, as if saying the name enough times would bring him the feeling of security and protection that his Father's name used to bring.

"Right here, Cas, I got you," Dean groaned, pulling Cas over the edge and back on solid ground. They both stood, Dean's eyes searching out an exit. He couldn't see Sam. But he heard him.

"This way!" Sam yelled through the fire. He had kept his spot dutifully at the top of the stairs.

Dean turned to Cas. "Are you ok to follow me?" he called.

Cas coughed and mumbled, "No."

Dean furrowed his brow. He hadn't heard Cas over the roar of the fire. "What?" he yelled frustratedly. With no answer, he rolled his eyes and grabbed Cas' hand. "Follow me and we'll get out!"

Dean took off running towards Sam, dragging Cas along behind him, coughing and unable to breathe. "Go!" he screamed at his younger brother. The three boys raced down the stairs and out the broken door. They didn't stop until they were far enough away from the building to feel relatively safe. Cas sounded like he was coughing up a lung and Sam was covered from head to toe in ash. Dean was sure he looked about as good as his brother.

When Cas recovered his voice, he sounded like he smoked three packs a day, which wasn't far off from his usual gravelly voice. "Thank you," he mumbled to Dean quietly.

"Next time, be more careful, you could have really gotten hurt," Dean scowled.

Cas smirked to himself. "I thought it was a nice change of pace for you," he said quietly. "You pulling me out of the flames for once."

"Shut up, Cas," Dean muttered. Neither one of them made mention of the fact that they were still holding hands, despite being out of harm's way.


	2. Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere

**Here goes the second installment of my 30 Day OTP Writing Challenge. Please review, as I love to hear what you have to say.**

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**Day 2: Cuddling Somewhere**

Cas hadn't slept well since the angels fell. Nightmares tormented him when he did nod off, just as his memories haunted his waking hours. He'd been in a miserable condition since that night, even though he now had a home with the Winchesters in the Men of Letters bunker. He could relax all he wanted, but the bunker only kept out the physical threats. There was nowhere to hide from the thoughts.

So he stayed awake most nights. He wandered the bunker exploring, a warm mug of coffee in his hand. With every sip, he remembered the Biggerson's waitress that he had spoken to about when the hairless apes first invented coffee. His enticing tale of the beginning of mankind had perhaps scared the girl, and she had gone quietly back to her work before Naomi made her appearance to Castiel.

Cas had discovered a few things, not only about the bunker, but about the boys on his nightly strolls. Cas liked peeking in the Winchesters' rooms at night to watch over them. Although he didn't possess the powers he once had, old habits died hard, and Cas still felt the desire to protect the boys in any way he could. If that meant watching them sleep briefly to ensure maximum comfort, Cas would do it. He was indebted to these boys for all they had done. Besides, it was the least he could do to continue his penance for his sins against Heaven.

Sam was good at sleeping. He snored softly. He drooled a little bit. When he was out, he was out. It was a good thing Sam had Dean if he ever needed to be woken up, because he was a very heavy sleeper. Sam slept spread out on his stomach, holding his pillow to his cheek. It was a position that was defensive, never letting his stomach and chest be easy targets. And yet, it was comfortable for him to take up as much room as possible, exposing his legs, arms, and back, ready to be attacked. As the younger brother, he must have had fewer bad memories than Dean, because Dean took a much different approach to sleeping.

Dean had gotten better about sleepwear, now opting for boxers and a t-shirt. He didn't snore. He didn't drool. But he mumbled in his sleep, and no matter how deep his sleep, he never looked relaxed. His eyebrows stayed furrowed as he lay in his bed on his side, arms clutching his pillow. His legs were drawn up just enough that his stomach was crunched and hard to reach. He twitched in his sleep, as if he was still ready for action. Cas guessed that Dean was still plagued with nightmares. On more than one occasion, Cas had slowly opened Dean's door and heard his breathing. But it wasn't the breathing of a sleeping man. Just one that wanted to avoid the chick-flick moments. Cas let it go, as long as Dean didn't question why Castiel was roaming around the bunker in the wee hours of the morning.

But one night, Cas was taking his usual walk around the bunker. He creaked open Sam's door and unleashed the sound of a chainsaw buzz before closing it again, satisfied that Sam was safe. The clock next to Sam's bed had read 1:43am.

Cas continued padding along in his bare feet and plaid pajama pants, coupled with a white t-shirt and a coffee mug in his hand with a Men of Letters insignia etched on the side. As he approached Dean's door, he heard what sounded like talking coming from Dean's room. It was like hearing only half of a conversation. Puzzled, Cas gingerly reached for the doorknob and pushed the door open.

Dean was in his bed, as usual, but his legs twitched and he was mumbling, "No...Sammy...Cas...no...son of a bitch...find you...hunt you...". His eyebrows were knit and he looked like he was getting the worst sleep of his life.

Alarmed, Cas quietly closed the door behind him and pulled the corner chair closer to Dean's bed. He sat by the hunter's head, watching him toss and turn restlessly. Cas slowly reached out a hand and rested it on Dean's shoulder, murmuring, "Dean, I'm here." He placed his mug of coffee on the nightstand, careful not to make too much noise.

Dean's sleeping form gave a shudder before turning to face Cas' voice. His eyes were still closed, but he reached out a groping hand until his found Cas' arm and grabbed it. Still asleep, Dean tugged Cas' arm closer and hugged it to him. The action pulled Cas from his chair and put him at an uncomfortable angle standing next to Dean. Cas tried to untangle himself, but in doing so, Dean's hands found Cas' legs and gave a weak pull.

Cas flushed pink. He had no experience with this kind of human touch, especially not with someone as close to him as Dean Winchester. But Cas complied and moved forward as far as he could without crawling into Dean's bed. Dean grunted in his sleep and pulled at Cas' legs more until Cas had no choice but to sit on the edge of Dean's bed. Dean clasped his arms around Cas' waist protectively and gave a deep huff of comfort. When Cas realized he wasn't going anywhere for a while, he pulled his legs onto the bed and leaned back against the headboard, sitting up straight and pulling a pillow to his stomach in case Dean kept tossing about.

Dean felt the shift and adjusted so that his head rested against the pillow situated at Cas' stomach. Cas put an arm protectively around the human and sighed, leaning his head back and looking at the ceiling. It would be a long night if he just sat here with Dean. But at the same time...

Castiel looked down at Dean again. The tense lines were erased from his forehead and his eyelids fluttered softly. He mumbled again, but not so much in his sleep. "Thanks, Cas," he murmured gruffly before tightening his grip on the former angel and settling down into a peaceful sleep.

A small smile crept across Cas' lips as he moved a hand to gently touch Dean's head. "Goodnight, Dean," he replied in his gravelly voice.

That night, Cas didn't wander the bunker. His mug of coffee was forgotten on Dean's nightstand. And when Dean woke in the morning, he feigned sleep for an extra hour so that he could memorize how it felt to sleep against Cas. Cas didn't mind. He had fought for forty years for this man. He wasn't going to object to the human joy of sleeping with the one you love.

When they finally got up, the sleeping arrangement wasn't mentioned. Dean never spoke of it, nor did Cas. It just wasn't their way. Words were so...limited. But from then on, Cas stopped roaming the bunker at night. He settled in to sleep instead. At Dean's side. And Dean wouldn't have it any other way.


	3. Day 3: Watching a Movie

**I owe you all an apology. I was away for two weeks on vacation in Europe and when I returned home, I had to read 4 books before I go back to school in addition to editing my dad's novel, which I haven't even started. My writing time has been tremendously sparse. Thank you so much for your patience, and here is installment 3, which I wrote before I went away at 2am.**

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**Day 3: Gaming/Watching a Movie**

"Cas, I don't care if you have better things to do, sit down," Dean commanded as he slid the DVD into its player. Castiel sat dutifully in the couch across from the TV. Though the bunker had a working TV when the Winchesters found the place, Dean had insisted on buying one that had a DVD player. It was just a small TV, nothing fancy at all. But Dean loved being able to watch movies on it. Imagine that, Dean Winchester settling down enough to acquire a DVD collection.

Dean picked up the remote, turned, and smirked as he flopped down next to Cas on the couch. "We're going to introduce you to a little pop culture if it kills me. And I've heard I'm pretty hard to kill," Dean joked, a slight smile playing on his lips as he clicked play.

Cas squinted his eyes at Dean and tilted his head. "You are human. You're not hard to kill. You just don't give up and stay dead," he said confusedly.

"Well, you're a freakin' ray of sunshine today," Dean grumbled. Cas shifted to his left a little so that he and Dean were touching arms. Dean didn't shuffle away. Sharing a bed with Cas had meant they had time to cuddle, and once Dean got past the whole Cas-is-a-dude mental barrier, he had gotten used to it and it was much more comforting than sleeping alone. Besides, there was a reason it felt so right. It was Cas. And to Dean, that really meant something.

The opening credits for _The Avengers_ rolled across the screen and Cas rested his head against Dean's shoulder. "What is this film about?" he asked.

"It's about a bunch of superheroes that come together and fight crime. The leader guy is Nick Fury. He's the one with the eyepatch," Dean explained. "Now shut up and watch."

The movie continued on and by the time the movie was halfway through, Dean had a pillow in his lap and Cas was lying with his head on the pillow. Dean was too caught up in the movie to notice his fingers slowly playing with Cas' hair. Cas was practically purring in Dean's lap. He quite enjoyed the movie and it felt good to be with Dean like this. All was quiet until Cas spoke up again.

"So the one made of metal, the Gabriel one, is he good or bad? He possesses many of the same traits as the Lucifer one," Cas pointed out.

Dean looked down at Cas, not sure he had heard him correctly. "What?"

"The metal one, Iron Man-"

"No, what did you call him the first time? The Gabriel one?" Dean questioned.

"Yes. From my understanding, the superheroes represent the angels. They're all super humans inadvertently destroying the earth while trying to protect people, correct?" Cas clarified.

"Are you just trying to make sure I can't enjoy my movie?" Dean accused.

Cas looked up at Dean. "What do you mean? I haven't done anything to cause you to associate this particular film with bad memories."

"Cas, you just compared the Avengers to the angels. You know, the dicks with wings. The God Squad. The douches from on high," Dean pointed out. "How are _The Avengers_, a band of superheroes, like that at all?"

Cas sat up to look at the screen more closely. "Well, that one in green, Loki, is obviously Lucifer. He's the fallen brother who wanted to be his father's favorite. That one, his brother, Thor, was his father's favorite son and just as powerful. He's Michael."

The mention of Michael put a bad taste in Dean's mouth, considering Michael almost wore him to the prom. Being the near vessel of the son of a bitch really put him on Dean's bad side. But he let Cas continue with his analysis.

"The other green one, the Hulk, that's Uriel. Very powerful and knows a lot about how things work. And Iron Man has a sense of humor and ago like Gabriel."

Dean nodded. "Well, yeah, you've got him pegged."

"Captain America is like Raphael. Very loyal to the cause they served, and when they thought they could do a better job, they stepped up. And then Hawkeye, he's like Metatron."

"Wait, wait, wait, hold up. How is Hawkeye like Metatron?" Dean asked skeptically.

"Well, he sees everything that goes on. Isn't it obvious?"

Dean made a face and let Cas finish.

"And then Black Widow, she's Naomi. Dedicated to the cause she serves and unwilling to waver."

"That was beautiful, Cas. Did you get an A on that analysis?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Cas squinted his eyes at Dean. "I didn't receive any sort of mark, nor did I write a paper on the topic, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. "God, we need to work on your humor."

"I'm not- oh, I see, that was an example of disregarding the second commandment," Cas noted.

That pulled a chuckle out of Dean as he reached over Cas to put an arm around his shoulder. "Cas, never change," he advised, settling back in to finish the movie. Cas rested his head back against Dean's shoulder and by the time the ending credits rolled, neither boy was awake to turn the TV off.

Sam walked through the room, stretching his arms over his head and saying, "Guys, I think I'm gonna-" He stopped short when he saw his older brother and their former angel curled up together on the couch sleeping. Sam smiled to himself and turned the TV off before heading to his room. As he crawled into bed that night, he thought to himself, 'It was only a matter of time.'


	4. Day 4: On a Date

**Also, did I mention I get to spend my birthday at Salute to Supernatural Toronto? Here's day 4, a slightly longer installment. But this was just too much fun to write.  
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**Day 4: On a Date**

Dean's hands hadn't been this sweaty since his first date ever in the sixth grade with Mary Costello. Or was it Kristine Simmons? Dean couldn't remember. It was long ago and long forgotten in the back of the hunter's mind. What was important was that Dean was nervous on a date for the first time in over a decade. And that was a decade filled with booze, women, and one night stands. He was used to dates, and picking up other peoples' dates, including Sam's. But all those meaningless nights seemed to fall by the wayside tonight, because the great date-and-dump Dean Winchester was anxious.

Dean's leg shook under the table in the lousy diner down the road from the bunker. He wiped his right hand on his jeans as he looked at the generic menu he felt like he'd been reading for hours. He didn't even know how he'd gotten here. First, Cas and he had started spending more one on one time with each other enjoying one another's company. Then they started sleeping together. But that didn't mean anything, right? Dean always put his arms around Cas because being human is tough, and for a fallen angel, it's even harder. Dean put his arms around Cas for protection and comfort. Cas always embraced Dean because he was Cas. He didn't have any boundaries. He was also used to protecting Dean and keeping him safe. That's all it was, right? Comforting and protecting? After what felt like eons, the young waitress stopped by the table to take their drink orders.

"Hi there! I'm Jackie and I'll be your server tonight. Can I get you boys a drink to start out with?" Jackie was young and beautiful. She looked like she was in her late 20s with a petite hourglass figure and black hair that just touched her shoulders. Her green eyes shone as she awaited an answer from Dean and Cas.

"I'll just have water, thank you," Cas replied politely.

Jackie smiled and turned to Dean, "And for you?"

Dean didn't bother looking up from his menu. "I'll have a Del Sol," he grumbled.

Jackie's smile didn't break. She scribbled Dean's order onto her pad and murmured, "Coming right up." She turned and winked at Cas over her shoulder as she sauntered back towards to kitchen.

Dean glanced up momentarily, eyeing the waitress before snapping his gaze over to Cas, who continued to read his menu, mulling over his choice of food. He had never felt hunger before, so that was an adjustment to be made. Cas usually waited until his stomach started making noises and he felt a little sick to actually eat, which explained why he seemed to be losing weight rapidly. Both Winchesters tried to keep him fed by having a set dinner time, with breakfast, lunch, and three snacks a day scattered in between. It appeared to be helping, but it was a concept the former angel was still trying to grasp.

Cas flicked his eyes up to meet Dean's across the table. His electric blue eyes bore into Dean's green ones as he tried to figure out what the man was thinking. Dean's eyes held a mixture of suspicion, annoyance, and…anxiety? Cas reasoned with himself that a man like Dean couldn't be nervous about dinner with him. He had no reason to be. They had been sleeping together and touching more since they had settled into their home at the Men of Letters bunker, but that seemed normal to Cas. Cas was in love with Dean.

"Did that waitress just wink at you?" Dean asked gruffly.

"Yes," Cas answered truthfully, dully.

Dean grunted and pulled his menu up to hide his face while Castiel closed his and placed it on the table. Dean peeked over his menu to watch Cas as he looked out the window to his right. Dean was going to give Sam hell when he got home. As they had been getting ready to go out to dinner, Sam had insisted on staying home, effectively turning a regular dinner into a date for Dean and Cas. Dean was sure Sam did it on purpose, but wasn't about to back out of a date with Cas. He didn't want to hurt the guy's feelings. Besides, with the sleeping and embracing, Dean might have been…developing feelings for Castiel that weren't purely platonic. Cas seemed more than willing, so Dean guessed Cas was just waiting for him to catch up.

Dean wiped his left hand on his jeans and closed his menu, putting it on the table on top of Cas' as Jackie strutted back towards the duo with their drinks. She placed the Del Sol in front of Dean and slowly reached across the table to put Cas' water on his right side. Tucking the tray under her arm and pulling out her notepad, she clicked her pen and looked to Cas with a gleam in her eye. "What'll it be, hon?"

"I'll have the cheeseburger with everything on it," Cas requested, a hint of a smile on his face. Dean blushed a deep shade of red at the sight of his angel's interactions with their too-interested waitress. An abnormal emotion boiled in his stomach at the look the girl was giving Cas and without thinking, Dean reached across the table to grab Cas's hand. "I'll have the same," he said.

Jackie's smile fell a little. "Alright, it'll be right out," she said, turning and leaving the table.

Cas looked at his hand in Dean's, his own cheeks pink at the unexpected touch. "Dean…" he started, but before he could finish, Dean stood and dropped Cas' hand.

"I'll be right back," he blurted and took off towards the bathroom.

Cas watched him go, silently wondering what he did wrong. He looked at his right hand, where Dean had grabbed him. It had been a rough, but tender touch. Now, they slept together. They cuddled and embraced, but they didn't hold hands. Not since the barn back when Cas was still a full-fledged angel. Somehow, holding hands felt much more…intimate. It was a connection that went beyond holding on to each other for protection and comfort. It wasn't the desperate clinging to be sure one didn't leave the other. This hand-holding, it was a sign that said, 'I'm holding on to you, but I trust you not to leave me, and I'm proud to show my connection to you.' And Castiel smirked at his hand for the brief show of affection. But the moment was ruined as an unnaturally strong hand grasped Cas around the neck.

In the bathroom, Dean splashed cool water on his face, looking at himself in the mirror with the urge to smash the damn thing. He hated mirrors. He never liked what was looking back. It was too much of his father. It was too much of Alistair. It was too much of every damn mistake he'd ever made, right down to every time he'd hurt Sammy or Cas. It wasn't enough of Bobby. It wasn't enough of his mom or Ellen. He'd never be enough.

Dean ripped his gaze away and turned to stare at the wall, leaning back against the white porcelain sink. He'd never be enough. That's what he always told himself. But when Cas pulled him out of hell… Dean remembered that moment. He remembered being mid-slice on another soul who had made a demon deal. Alistair had been watching over his shoulder, prodding him into getting creative with the torture techniques. After being in hell that long, Dean wasn't himself. There were no mirrors in the pit, but Dean had watched other souls transform their looks as they became uglier and uglier, like the demons Dean had seen just before he died. After what felt like forty years, Dean knew his soul was just as ugly.

But just as he went to exchange tools, he felt a searing pain in his shoulder. But it wasn't heat. It was hot in hell, nothing could burn him worse. It was a searing cold, and it felt oddly like a hand on his shoulder. There was a beautiful white light that encircled Dean's vision and he snarled as he threw his arms up around his face to protect himself. Then there was the heavenly sound of an angel speaking and Dean knew. He had just forgotten when he emerged on earth again. That was his big secret that he kept from Sam and Cas. His memory of being saved had slowly been returning. And he remembered loving Castiel.

Cas had seen Dean in the ugliest state his soul had ever been in and still saved him. He may not be enough for himself, but he was more than enough for Cas.

Poor Cas at that moment was struggling. His legs kicked, trying to make contact with the man holding him, or even the floor. His vision was getting spotty and he couldn't breathe. He had never felt this choking sensation and quickly decided it was one he didn't want to experience ever again.

"Hello, brother," the man snarled.

"A-Abdiel," Cas choked out, his hands wrapped around the one on his throat.

Abdiel began closing his hand around Cas' throat. "This is your fault, Castiel. You betrayed your own kind. You committed genocide against your own family, and now you think you can hide away with the humans responsible for this mess in the first place."

Cas was fading and he knew it, but he was utterly powerless. Dean had the angel blade.

"But now that you're human," Abdiel continued, "I can finally break you."

A silver spike erupted from Abdiel's chest and his eyes went wide. He dropped Cas, who crumpled to the ground and scrambled backwards. Abdiel's eyes and mouth gave off a glowing light before fading and his vessel dropped to the ground, dead.

Cas' chest heaved as he tried to breathe again. He felt like his neck had been wrung and he was struggling to choke in oxygen. He was dizzy and his vision was blurred, but he didn't need to see clearly to know who had saved him.

Dean stepped over Abdiel's body and offered Cas a hand up. He smirked, the angel blade in his right hand covered in blood. Cas shook a little, proper blood flow returning, and Dean remembered. His first date was with Kristine Simmons. "Was this guy bothering you?"


End file.
